(Literally) Falling For You
by SenpaiBuckwheat
Summary: In which, Ballet falls in one sense of the phrase, and Hefty falls in the other.


**A/N: Ballet was an OC I created _many_ years ago for my favorite Smurf, Hefty. I wrote a story when I was young but it was absolute garbage and I abandoned it until I had one sliver of an idea for a oneshot very recently under very odd circumstances. Hope you enjoy these two awkward beans!**

* * *

Hefty noticed that Ballet wasn't her usual self, standing – _standing _– off to the side of the activity, wringing her hands and shifting her weight between her pointe-shoe-clad feet. She'd only been in the village for a year, so she must not have felt too integrated to know her role in the festival set up. He glanced around. No one approached her, too busy in their own work. The box of decorations he was holding in his arms suddenly felt heavy at the thought of talking to her and helping her participate in the set-up. A fresh sheen of sweat slid down his back, but it wasn't because of the constant transportation of heavy decoration boxes.

Setting the box carelessly on the ground (he heard Clumsy trip over it a moment later), Hefty weaved his way through the sea of smurfs on their mission. He flexed his muscles as force of habit by clenching and unclenching his fists as he neared the smurfette. When she looked up and met his eyes, a jolt ran through Hefty's body, followed by an alarmingly-strong electrical shock when she smiled at him. His knees buckled. "H-hey," he stuttered, letting his arms hang at his sides before placing them on his hips, then letting them hang again, "uh, did you want to help me lift some boxes?"

What he wouldn't give to see that bright beam on her face every day of his life. In a moment, it was replaced with defeat. "I mean, you're way stronger than I am—" Hefty's chest puffed outwards the slightest amount, "—so you obviously won't need my help." He deflated.

"N-no, there are so many things I need to move, and It'd be good to have some company." _Nice recovery, Hefty_.

Her smile returned, shier, but still as beautiful as the first. "Okay. I did feel kind of lonely not being able to help." She trailed behind him at first, but he soon slowed his steps so she could walk beside him.

Hefty handed her one of the lighter boxes, which was still fairly heavy, but was surprised when she carried it with ease. "You're stronger than you look," he commented, but immediately winced with the seemingly-condescending tone.

She didn't seem to notice. "Ballerinas are strong too." Another smile that made him momentarily transform into Clumsy Smurf. "Are you okay?" Ballet set her box down to put a hand on his shoulder after he picked himself up from the ground.

He must've tripped over his own feet because the contents of the box were splayed in every direction. Heat crept up his cheeks not only in embarrassment, but also at the feeling of her warm palm on his skin. "I'm fine," he gave an awkward laugh, crouching to collect tools for set-up, paper lanterns, and other assorted decorations.

Other smurfs treaded around them, not bothering to assist, which confused Hefty. Maybe they were all too busy to lend a hand. Ballet wasn't, and soon she was on her knees beside him, placing items gently in the large box. Hefty got caught in the way she smiled softly – her smile was _killing_ him – and he was frozen in place, hand hovering over one of Handy's tools.

She was staring at him, he realized. "Are you gonna pick that up?" The tool was the only item not in the box. "You seemed like you were zoning out."

Great. Now she thought he was a creep. His hand moved downwards solely, but Ballet must not have seen as she reached to pick up the item.

Hefty's hand rested on top of hers.

Time seemed to stop, well, for Hefty it did. He couldn't think of anything else other than the heat from her hand or the way the top of her hand was so smooth compared to his calloused one, roughened from work.

Ballet jerked her hand back, laughing loudly and awkwardly in such a manner that smurfs passing by shot them a confused glance. Some smiled. Her cheeks were tainted purple, and she fiddled with the two French braids over her shoulders. "Silly me, I should've paid more attention." She stood up abruptly, snatching the box and scurrying away, leaving Hefty dazed.

A moment later she approached him again, grinning nervously. "Where do I put this box?"

* * *

"We're in a predicament." Brainy stated.

He was correct, he usually was, but Hefty still found himself getting annoyed at the Smurf's statement. He itched to boot him out of the village, but he didn't have a valid reason other than to take out some frustration.

The ladder needed to put up decorations had been exploded (thanks, Jokey), and it would take Handy a decent amount of time to craft a new one. Too much time. The festival was due to start in an hour, and while others were baking, setting up elsewhere, organizing, the decorating crew was at a standstill.

Papa Smurf jogged up to the group. "We can't find Handy, but he's probably with Marina, so he won't be available for a while." He sent a knowing glance to Hefty. "Maybe Hefty could lift someone up." It was an odd suggestion, but Papa smiled nonetheless before bustling to his next location.

Hefty glanced at his teammates. Clumsy was a definite no, Vanity was occupied with his own reflection, Lazy was snoozing peacefully under a tree, and Brainy had no artistic talent whatsoever. There was… Hefty dared to look in his peripheral vision, spotting the ever-so-graceful Ballet Smurfette. Artistic, had good balance, light to carry…

No. No, no, no, no, nope. He was not going to put her in danger by lifting her above his head. He didn't trust himself enough. Smurf, maybe she didn't even want him to lift her. Hefty could probably track down Smurfette easily, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be getting physically close to Smurfette with Ballet around –

"Lift me." The dancer's utterance rang in his ears.

"What?" The smurfs chorused, Hefty's voice loudest of them all.

"What if I drop you?" Panic laced his tone. He didn't want to be responsible for Ballet's injuries if he stumbled or dropped her, let alone be the recipient of her hate if he made a mistake. Now that he thought about it, was Ballet actually capable of hating anyone? She was far too sweet—

"Lift me, Hefty," she said, more certain, standing in front of him. Ballet snatched a string of lanterns that was on the grass and wound them around her arm. Quietly, so only he could hear, she said, "I trust you."

If he was alone in his mushroom, Hefty would've collapsed to the floor and melted, clutching his poor, poor heart. Those three words sent him over the moon. How could he regain his composure after that? By lifting her up? No, that'd give him heart palpitations again, but he couldn't deny her.

She was staring at him expectantly, he realized, and before he could stop his idiotic self, he put his hands around her small waist. She was tiny but strong, and the moment he lifted her from the ground, he felt her back clench and saw the prominent muscles in her shoulders once she lifted her arms.

Smurfs above, he was falling hard.

Her toes pointed sub-consciously, but she struggled to reach the top of the beam she needed to string the lanterns around. She landed elegantly when Hefty set her down.

"We're not tall enough." Her brows furrowed as she placed her hands on her hips in contemplation.

Hefty's heart skyrocketed at the word "we", but plummeted at the thought of not being good enough for her. He was too short.

Ballet tapped her foot and tongued her cheek. "Oh!" She exclaimed suddenly. "What if I stand _on _your hand?"

"If you what?!" Hefty's jaw dropped. "No, I can't put you in danger like that. I don't trust myself enough with your _life_, Ballet."

The Smurfette bit her lip and glanced down shyly, for a reason he didn't know, but it was awfully endearing. In a flash, she was beside him squeezing his bicep. "Oh please, you can't tell me these are just for show." She smirked up at him, probably taking in his bright blush and loud swallow.

His skin was buzzing. Had he been shocked? Why did it feel like there was lightning coursing through his veins? "T-they're not for show. And I'll do it since you're insisting," he stuttered, clenching and unclenching his fists before setting his hands on her waist again. He counted down from three, hoisting her onto his shoulder before she placed her feet in his palms. Her life was _literally_ in his hands.

Hefty had to shuffle around to secure a solid position once she was held up high above him, but she was strong and made quick work of fastening the decorations in place.

After setting her down and lifting her up a few more times in order to finish the task, Hefty's breathing was labored with effort and Ballet started getting shaky. Despite starting to feel the exhaustion, they remained focused.

Finally, she secured the last decoration in place. "Wait," she started, before Hefty could set her down, "keep me up here a little longer."

"What?" Hefty panted, but he complied.

"I'm going to stand on one hand." She told him, already shifting her weight.

"_What_?!"

"Trust me!" She was trembling, but still holding her ground. One elegant leg lifted into the air high behind her, arms extended in a balletic pose.

He didn't know what she was doing but she looked stunning. "You're beautiful." He whispered, in awe of the pure strength and daintiness she managed to hold. The sun was setting behind her, making her look all-the-more perfect.

Her leg buckled, his arm buckled, they came crashing down. Smurfs that were passing by shrieked at the spectacle. It seemed to happen in slow motion – Ballet's graceful limbs flailing as she hurtled to the ground, Hefty's wide eyes as Ballet came towards him, the thunk of two Smurf bodies hitting the grass.

Once the dust of Hefty's mind cleared, he tried catching his breath after having the wind knocked out of him. He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? _This is no time to panic_, he thought, panicking.

There was a low groan above him. Not above – directly on top. "Ballet?"

Another groan.

Smurf, he killed her. She was dead, he _killed_ her.

"I guess," Ballet winced slightly as she lifted her head to look at him, "you could say I fell for you." A bright beam lit up her face before she rested her forehead against his shoulder and groaned again. "That was so embarrassing I'm so sorry I don't know why I smurfed that—"

"Are you okay?" Concern flooded him, and he lifted her face, inspecting it. Her cheeks grew warm under his touch and just then he became _very_ aware of how they were positioned. He must've caught her with his body because she was pressed against him and he against the ground. He retracted his hands, clenching his fists again. Should he tell her to move?

She didn't, instead cupped his own cheek in her palm, worry etched into her expression. "I know you're a strong Smurf, but I hope I didn't hurt you with my body weight."

His heart pounded again. "You would never – I didn't feel a thing." _Although I might feel like I'm smurfing in love with you_, inner-Hefty chimed.

"Get a shroom!"

"Handy! That's unkind!" A passersmurf said as the two hurriedly rolled off each other, but Hefty's best friend was laughing before he continued on his way, obviously wanting to leave them alone.

They were both fine, but they didn't move from their spots beside each other on the grass. After sitting in excruciatingly-painful silence for a few moments, Hefty stood, holding out his hand to help her up. She took it, and his muscles must've been numb from the work, because he yanked her upwards too hard, making her crash into his chest again. He held her firmly, getting fleetingly lost in her eyes.

"Ballet, I –"

"The festival's starting!" Papa Smurf called from some distance away.

Like a wild animal, the trance was broken and Ballet scurried off, joining the others.

Maybe some other time.

* * *

**A/N: I have so many assignments for school I need to do but watch me scheme up more corny ideas for these two instead...**


End file.
